


Love Is Like A Virus

by Mariska



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 07:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11801316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariska/pseuds/Mariska
Summary: Rimmer gets confused about his feelings and somehow ends up in a "no touching" bet with Lister. Predictably, he doesn't want to lose.





	Love Is Like A Virus

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly ridiculous slice of life on board - not much plot and no actual smut but lots of references to it.

_“Love is like a virus. It can happen to anybody at any time.” – Maya Angelou_

 

“I bet you can’t go a whole day without touching me,” said Rimmer as they lay together in the double bunk they’d recently claimed as their own after Rimmer kept complaining that Lister’s toenails were keeping him awake.

It had been another long, exhausting day filled with rogue asteroids and a proximity alarm which turned out to be some of the Cat’s clothes that had got stuck to the side of the ship after he’d done his end-of-season clearout. Lister had spent most of the day glued to Rimmer’s side, holding his hand to reassure him as they searched the ship and hugging him through a panic attack when a faux-fur dinner jacket got sucked into the engines and caused a temporary power failure.

“You what?” mumbled Lister, half-asleep with his arms and legs entwined round the hologram next to him, his cheek pillowed on the conveniently placed naked chest beneath his head.

“Look at you, you’re practically drooling on me and we haven’t been apart for more than a few minutes all day!”

Lister peeled his eyes open and looked up at Rimmer, eyebrows raised. No matter how tired he was, he wasn’t going to let that one go.

“It was your fault!” he said, slightly irritated at being disturbed. “You were the one that was scared!”

“I was not! Honestly, you make one tiny squeak and you’re marked down as a coward.”

“You screamed my name and clutched me so hard I thought I was going to lose my nipples.”

“Anyway,” continued Rimmer, brushing off Lister’s possibly accurate description with a wave of his hand. “What I’m saying is that you can’t keep your hands off me. Not just today, it’s every day. Just yesterday you spent your entire shift with your hands in my armpits. How on Io we didn’t crash is anybody’s guess.”

“My hands were cold! And you’re all warm…and snuggly,” Lister said, shifting up and burying his face into Rimmer’s neck. Rimmer suppressed a shiver. He was trying to make a point here and he was pretty sure it would undermine his case if he flipped Lister onto his back, straddled him and ripped his boxers off. Might seem a bit keen. He tried to get his argument back on track.

“That’s exactly my point, instead of putting on gloves like any normal person, your first thought was to use me as a hot water bottle. And the day before you wouldn’t stop kissing me while I was trying to inventory the food we picked up from that derelict.”

“Are you saying I’ve got no self-control?” said Lister indignantly.

“You’ve got less self-control than a game show host in a wig shop,” snorted Rimmer.

Lister smirked but then sat up, crossed his arms and looked put out.

Without Lister wound around him Rimmer suddenly felt bereft. He started to regret ever having begun this argument but now it was too late to give up. The truth was he was scared of how quickly he’d come to crave Lister’s attention: the affectionate hand holding, the way a pair of arms would snake round his waist when his back was turned, the kisses that punctuated their conversations, the slick slide of Lister’s mouth as he … ok he was getting off track. Suffice it to say he wanted Lister to touch him all the time and that alone was scary enough, without the other feeling too.

He’d first noticed it about two weeks after he’d got the hardlight drive. He’d confessed to Dave that he had feelings for him a few days after leaving Legion and things had been great, amazing actually. They’d talked for hours, gone over old misunderstandings and put everything right between them. Every day had got better and better. And the sex! Sometimes he wasn’t even sure what it was they were doing, but it was all unbelievably good.

Then he’d started to notice that his chest felt tight whenever Dave was around and even worse when he wasn’t; he started to get butterflies in his stomach just thinking about Dave; he found that the touching wasn’t enough, he wanted more kissing, more cuddling, more naked skin on skin, more everything - and still it wasn’t enough. He was worried he’d got some sort of holovirus that had made him addicted to Lister. In true Rimmer style he’d put two and two together and come up with an answer that only he could think would make sense - he needed to stop Lister from touching him all the time, get some distance so he could work out what was wrong with him.

And maybe it would do Lister good to have some time on his own too. That last thought strengthened his resolve. He’d been trying to make an effort to do things for Dave, here was an opportunity to be selfless.

Even in Rimmer’s mixed-up mind, that one sounded like clutching at straws. But his brain clutched anyway, tried it out for size on a nice cold drink and decided to keep sucking.

“I don’t understand what the problem is, I thought you liked it when I touch you,” Lister sounded upset and Rimmer almost caved. He could hardly deny that he liked it when his usual response to Lister’s caresses was to get an immediate erection, something not easily hidden in his uniform. He made a mental note to find out whether his hardlight drive had some sort of boner-override switch.

“I do like it when you touch me, just not at inappropriate times,” he said, plucking at the sheet in between them nervously.

“Well how am I supposed to know when it’s appropriate? Is there a list?”

“For smeg’s sake Listy, use your common sense! Any time we’re working is inappropriate, but in between shifts, mornings and evenings are fine. We can still sleep together,” he said in what he hoped was an encouraging tone. Despite what he was saying he really wanted Lister to lay down and cuddle him again.

“Are you saying I need a diary to know when I can touch you? That’s ridiculous! Are you going to make me a colour-coded timetable?” Lister was getting more and more annoyed, sliding off the bunk and facing Rimmer. “Red means keep your distance, amber for get ready to sneak a grope, green for snogging and black for lock the door ‘cause it’s going to get messy?”

“Well no, that’s not exactly what I meant.” Rimmer stopped; he wasn’t sure he could explain exactly what he’d meant. His chest was getting tight again and he had that feeling, the one that had made him start this whole thing.

They stared at each other for a moment. Usually they couldn’t look at each other without being magnetically drawn together; if they were already touching when they made eye contact then they might as well write off the next hour. But this look was different and Lister was actually moving away from the bed.

“Alright, you’re on,” Lister said determinedly.

“I’m on what?”

“The bet. You said you bet I couldn’t go a whole day without touching you. So you’re on!”

“You want to make a bet?” Rimmer felt like he’d missed a chunk of time somewhere in this conversation.

“Yeah, I wanna bet. One day without touching and whoever caves first is the loser,” Lister actually looked like he was into the idea now. “And the winner gets to choose what we do next time we get a day off. Which I believe is this Saturday coming.”

Realising he’d somehow been backed into a corner, sadly not literally, Rimmer knew he’d have to agree or he’d never hear the end of it.

“Ok, it’s a bet,” he said reluctantly. “Wait, where are you going?”

Lister had pulled his pillow off the bed and was heading for the door.

“One day. 24 hours starting now. It’s your bet Arn, I didn’t make the rules,” smirked Lister, seemingly enjoying watching Rimmer squirm. “We can’t sleep in the same bed and not touch, so I’m going back to my old bunk. See you in the mornin’ Big Man.”

Watching Lister leave, blowing a kiss behind him as he walked out, Rimmer wondered what the hell he’d done. 

*****

The next morning Rimmer slowly got out of bed after one of the worst nights he could remember. He’d tossed and turned for hours, trying to ignore the Lister-shaped hole in the bed. Technically, of course, he didn’t need to sleep but the downtime was good for his stress levels. He’d finally got some rest in the early hours, which meant he’d overslept and it was now almost lunchtime. Lister’s shift had started hours ago and Rimmer was distraught at the fact that they’d missed their usual morning sex. He wondered if Dave had missed it too or if he’d just gone ahead solo. 

Willing away the picture of Lister enjoying his own right hand, Rimmer sighed, got dressed and went to work. Far from helping him by putting some distance between them, Rimmer found that the butterflies in his stomach had been engaging in reproduction during the night - Dave was all he could think about. He was supposed to be finishing the food inventory, but images of Lister's naked body kept swimming in front of his eyes every time he looked at his list; he was desperately hoping that the Cat or Kryten wouldn’t come in and wonder why the tinned asparagus was giving him a hard-on.

He thought back to his only real sexual experiences before Dave. Yvonne McGruder. The less said about that experience the better, although he hadn’t stuck to that premise himself, telling everyone and anyone about it, sentient or not. The problem was he'd spent so long embellishing the details of the encounter that he couldn't quite remember what had actually happened. Then there had been Nirvanah Crane, a different experience altogether. She'd called it 'making love'. What was the difference? He'd have to ask Dave. Anyway, he'd been pretty good at sex that time hadn't he? Ok so she had taken the lead at first and it had taken him a while to realise she was getting herself off, rather than him doing anything specific, but after that he had been a stud. He remembered enjoying it at the time but now that he thought about the stomach-clenching, leg-trembling, brain-melting climaxes that he had with Dave, it paled in comparison.

Looking down at his clipboard he realised that instead of a number, he’d written the word ‘sex’ against the freeze-dried mushrooms. Suddenly it was difficult to breathe - he really needed to see Lister, talk to him, even sniff him, anything just to be in the same room as him. He was pretty sure that Lister wouldn’t be able to resist touching him once they were close. The idea of losing the bet himself never occurred to him.

Abandoning his inventory, he strode up to cockpit where Lister was on pilot duty on his own, pausing in the doorway to watch for a moment. The weight in his chest lessened as he took in the familiar sight: debris all around the pilot's seat and Lister picking the dirt out of his fingernails with a pen lid.

"You are such a slob Listy," Rimmer said, somewhat distracted by the mess.

"Yeah but you think it's adorable, don't ya?" came the reply as Lister twisted his seat round to look up and smile at the taller man.

For a moment Rimmer forgot about the bet and expected Lister to launch himself into his arms, which was their usual ‘hello’ after a few hours apart, let alone a whole night and morning. When he didn’t, Rimmer couldn’t work out what to do with his hands, which by now would usually be cupping Lister’s arse, pulling him in tightly while they nuzzled at each other’s necks trying to get as close as possible. He tried putting his hands behind his back, but then worried that it looked too formal so he leaned on the back of the other pilot’s seat in what he hoped was a nonchalant pose. Plus it had the advantage of sticking his arse out provocatively. 

Lister didn’t look impressed.

"Finished your counting stuff already?"

"It’s not counting, it’s inventory. Which I suppose technically is counting but it's much more than that," Rimmer made a frustrated gesture, he was getting sidetracked. "Anyway, no I didn't finish, I stopped to come and talk to you."

"You stopped in the middle? Doesn't that violate some kind of Space Corps directive?"

"Shut up you gimboid," he said, trying to work out why he wanted him so much when Lister could be so infuriating. "I want to...I mean I think we should...you know, talk about what happened last night."

"What was that then?" Lister said innocently, with a twinkle in his eye.

"You know perfectly well what I’m talking about," grimaced Rimmer, still trying to casually prop himself up on the seat back but looking more like he was trying to recreate a right-angled triangle. “After that stupid bet you left me to sleep on my own. I was… I was lonely. A bit. You know, not that I noticed you weren’t there…much.”

"Like I said, we couldn’t be in the same bed and not touch. We wouldn’t know who touched who first! Anyway I don’t know about you Arnie my man, but I slept like a log."

If Rimmer hadn’t been concentrating on not letting his nonchalant lean slip even further, he would have noticed the dark circles under Lister’s eyes and the enormous cup of double strength coffee on the console that spoke volumes about the night Lister had really had. But at that moment the Cat walked in for the next shift so he had to give up on his ridiculous stance and stand by the door again.

Lister and the Cat high-fived each other as the Cat sat down, then bent their heads together so they could go over the readouts and plot the next course. Lister draped his arm naturally round the Cat’s shoulders as they were talking, then gave him a friendly pat on the back as he stood to leave.

Rimmer had always been jealous of the ease with which Lister touched other people. Back in the old days on Red Dwarf Lister had always greeted his many friends and acquaintances with a high-five or back slap. Sometimes with a full-blown hug and a kiss on the cheek. And not just when greeting them either, he would dish out the same when saying goodbye or if someone made a joke or if he’d had more than two lagers. In contrast Rimmer had sometimes gone days without any human contact. Weeks even. He’d only joined the Love Celibacy Society in the misguided hope that they might have a secret handshake. 

So this last month had been a revelation for him - to not only have a body that was capable of feeling, but to have found someone who wanted to feel it - no wonder he’d got addicted so quickly.

He came out of his reverie to find Lister in front of him and the Cat staring at them both.

“What’s up with you two?” he demanded, furrowing his brow.

“Nothing!” they said in unison.

“You’re both acting weird. Something don’t smell right.”

“Ask Rimmer,” Lister sighed, walking out of the cockpit, being careful not to brush the hologram as he went past. 

“Listy! Dave! Wait!” He rushed after Lister, stopping abruptly as he turned around and they stared at each other. Once again there was none of the usual magnetism between them.

“What? Arn, you can’t have it both ways you know. You can’t tell me I shouldn’t touch you but then follow me around like a student after a kebab van. By my calculation you’re still on duty, so go and finish whatever it was you were doing, then there’ll only be a few hours left before we can put this madness behind us and go to bed.”

Rimmer’s stomach flipped at the thought of going to bed with Lister - he was obviously trying to entice him with his sad puppy-dog eyes and talk of bed, which going by past experience meant sex. Well it wasn’t going to work! Arnie J had more self-control than that. Didn’t he? Watching Lister walk away he resisted the urge to follow and reluctantly went back to the cargo bay to finish the food inventory.

*****

A couple of hours later, he finally finished. Although judging by the number of times he’d had to stop and adjust his trousers when a particularly realistic image of a naked Lister popped into his head, he’d probably have to redo most of it.

He looked at the time - still 5 hours before the 24 hours were up. This is stupid, he thought. We’re both off duty, things should be getting squelchy! If it wasn’t for that bet. Honestly, I’m sure I can be in the same room as Dave and not touch him. 90% certain. Maybe 50%. Damn it, I’m going to find him and get him to touch me.

As he walked the ship, he tried to think of a way to seduce Lister into touching him. He drew a blank. The problem was he wasn’t entirely sure what made him attractive to Lister. Then inspiration struck - what could be more sexually arousing than a senior officer?

After a couple of false starts, including a few seconds as Captain Hollister, he managed to find the right settings to put himself into an admiral’s uniform, complete with as many medals for bravery as he could fit on his chest. He briefly considered using the old extra pair of socks trick, then realised Lister was well acquainted with the size of his package and would probably notice any artificial inflation. Anyway, the thought of Admiral Rimmer seducing Third Technician Lister was enough to inflate his package without any help.

Rimmer found Lister in the kitchen area, standing disconsolately hugging a mug of tea. He looked distraught and didn’t hide it when he noticed Rimmer in the room. He didn’t even react to the sight of Rimmer resplendent in white, he just put the tea down and faced the hologram. It suddenly occurred to Rimmer that Dave wasn’t trying to entice him by acting sad - he actually was sad. He melted away the ridiculous uniform and stood awkwardly in his usual outfit, looking at the floor until Lister spoke.

“What are we doin’, Arn? This doesn’t feel right.”

This time when their eyes met, it was definitely one of _those_ looks. The tension between them was palpable.

“God I want to kiss you,” Lister breathed, his usually shining eyes dark with lust.

Every simulated molecule in Rimmer’s body strained to move towards Lister. Heat coiled in his groin. 

“Please Arn, I can’t stand it,” Lister whispered, arms outstretched, trembling with need.

Rimmer’s resolve shattered.

He crossed the floor in one bound and crushed Lister in his arms, lifting him and walking them backwards to the countertop. Lister wrapped his legs around Rimmer and clung on for dear life, burying his head into Rimmer’s neck and mouthing his skin desperately. They hit the edge of the counter and Rimmer lowered Lister into a sitting position so that he could raise his hands to cup Lister’s face. For just a second they stared at each other incredulously, then groaned deeply in relief as their lips finally met.

Rimmer groaned again as Lister licked into his mouth, tongues clashing in a bid to make up for the hours apart. Later there’d be plenty of time for a more leisurely exploration of each other’s mouths, but for now they both needed this urgent, desperate making out. Rimmer wanted to climb inside Lister, wear him as a second skin, anything to get closer. His fingers dug into Lister’s scalp almost painfully, angling his head so that he could deepen their kiss. He could feel Lister gripping his uniform in tight fists, dragging them closer together. But it still wasn’t enough for either of them, they were shaking in their need for each other.

Lister tightened his legs around Rimmer’s waist just as the hologram dropped his hands and pulled their hips together, heat searing through the fabric separating them. They were already hard and panting, kissing like it was the only way they could breathe, rocking together in unison.

Sometimes this was all it took, this hot, hard rutting against each other. They would lean their foreheads together, one of them snaking his hand in between their bodies to free them from their clothes, friction and overwhelming lust combining to bring it all to a swift conclusion.

But this time Lister pulled away from Rimmer’s mouth just long enough to breathe “Bed” into his ear; Rimmer responded by picking Lister up again, using the strength he didn’t usually show he had to take them both to their quarters.

It was definitely going to be a ‘lock the door ‘cause it’s going to get messy’ moment.

*****

Much later Lister pulled his head away from Rimmer just enough so that he could make eye contact. He looked mock-stern.

"Don't you ever put us through a day like that again! I was a walking-talking cliché - I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I could hardly breathe without you."

Rimmer was horrified; Dave had felt like that too? He steeled himself to say something, but Lister beat him to it.

"I love you so much, you smeghead."

The breath that Rimmer hadn't realised he'd been holding - probably all day - released itself and with it all his anxiety. He finally understood what had been happening to him. He really was a smeghead.

"I love you too! More than I realised," he sighed, pulling Lister close to him again. "I’m sorry I told you to stay away. I want to touch you all the time, I thought there was something wrong with me!"

Lister stopped kissing his neck to snort in disbelief. "You thought being in love was a disease?!"

"Um, more like a virus,” Rimmer half-smiled at the comically raised eyebrows from Lister. “Yes I know it sounds stupid but I'm new to all this! Anyway I wasn't the one who made that bet, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah, well, I was trying to teach you a lesson. But it sort of backfired. Except....I won didn't I?"

"Technically, you won. But I was provoked! You practically begged me to kiss you."

“Yeah but you touched me first, you lost! So that means I get to pick what we do on Saturday.” Lister looked full of glee.

Rimmer sighed. “You’re going to make me play strip poker and listen to you murdering some Rastabilly Skank atrocity on your guitar, aren’t you? Although thinking about it, you might be able to improve on the original.”

“We’ll see Arnie, we’ll see,” grinned Lister, moving in for round two. “By the way, an admiral’s uniform? Genius! That one’s definitely going on the role play rota.”

*****

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” asked Rimmer dubiously. It was Saturday and Lister had been preparing things in secret for the last two days. After breakfast he’d blindfolded Rimmer and led him to the cargo bay. Now he was looking excitedly at the hologram.

“Yes! I won, it’s my choice. And I choose this.”

“But I thought…” Rimmer tailed off.

“I know what you thought! But I wanted to show you what you **should** do when you love someone. This is ‘cause I love you,” Lister smiled, shaking the bells that were attached to his shins. He handed Rimmer two handkerchiefs.

“Kryten!” he shouted. “Hit the music. Let’s morris!”


End file.
